Bellamy and Little Bear's Love Affair
by Sarma
Summary: It was no secret that Little Bear was a daddy's boy. He made it incredibly obvious to anybody who had eyes and ears that he was completely and utterly, undyingly in love with Bellamy. or Clarke is jealous about the amount of lap time their cat gets with Bellamy.
_A/N: So this is a shameless cat fic. I hope it's not weird, although it might be for non cat people (or even cat people). It came to me really quickly and got quite out of hand. Non-beta'd. I hope, once you get past the weirdness that you find it fluffy and funny!_

 ** _Bellamy and Little Bear's Love Affair._**

It was no secret that Little Bear was a daddy's boy.

He made it incredibly obvious to anybody who had eyes and ears that he was completely and utterly, undyingly in love with Bellamy.

Little Bear was so devoted to his dad he even knew the sound of Bellamy's truck and would walk to the window by the front door and wait for him to arrive once he heard him pull into the street and up the drive.

As soon as Bellamy stepped inside, the big, black moggy would mewl his "I missed you" mewl, rub himself against Bellamy's legs repeatedly, curl his tail around his calf and sometimes even stand up and stretch his front legs on Bellamy's thigh, like a clingy toddler who wanted to be carried.

The whole time, both Bellamy and Bear would have this silly, soppy look on their faces – eyes almost closed, chins up, lips pursed in soft smiles as they crooned at each other.

"How's my little man?" Bellamy would practically purr as he planted a peck on Bear's head and rubbed the spot on his back that sent his fluffy tail straight up.

It was sickening - in an adorable, feline bromance kind of way.

Depending on how maternal she felt that day, Clarke would either tut-tut at their little exchanges and coo along with them, or, huff and snort about how they were both traitors (Little Bear was her cat to begin with) and they could take their disloyal love affair somewhere else.

Of course, Bellamy found her affectations amusing and teased her consistently about her feline envy.

"How is it that I'm the one who feeds him, cleans his litter tray, incessantly opens and closes the door for him _and_ grooms him, but you're the one who gets all the attention?" She whined.

"Clearly he thinks _you_ worship _him_ , but _he_ worships _me_."

"You mean he worships your hot spot," she jeered.

"Who doesn't?" Bellamy winked at her.

It was true - Little Bear was in love with Bellamy's lap.

He never sat on hers.

One evening, after Bellamy had asked her to fetch this and that for him because he didn't want to disturb the sleeping cat on his lap, Clarke was compelled to complain about the amount of time Bear spent coiled between Bellamy's legs on the couch.

"Why does he get to sit on you with that smug smile on his face?" She griped theatrically. "Every time I try to straddle you while we watch TV, you turn me away."

"Clarke - he's a cat!" Bellamy chuckled. "He doesn't toy with my nipples and eat my earlobes while I'm trying to watch the weather!"

She huffed.

"Most men wouldn't complain about their wives wandering hands, or needy teeth!"

"Most women don't try and solicit their husband's attention from a _cat_." He raised his eyebrows at her and then made kissy sounds at Bear. "A cute cat at that!"

She shoved his shoulder and groaned as Bear glared at her.

"You two co-conspirators drive me crazy!"

It became a bit of a game - she tried to beat Bear to Bellamy's lap of a night-time, or persuade him to settle on hers instead. She was consistently unsuccessful in both endeavours and her determined drive only fuelled Bellamy's mockery.

Of course, she got the last laugh at bedtime when Bellamy walked in on her getting nude and shooed Bear out, closing the door behind him.

"Sorry Little Bear," he breathed, turning back to Clarke.

"Ohh…" she said, all coy. "So you want _this_ pussy tonight?" She hissed. "We'll see about that!"

The bromance did not recede after Clarke became pregnant with their first child, in fact it got worse - or maybe the hormones enhanced her emotions and distorted reality slightly, _maybe_.

Anywhere there was a hint of Bellamy's scent, Bear would be beside himself rubbing, licking, pawing and purring. Clarke was constantly finding him curled up on a jacket or shirt that Bellamy had left on the bed, or in his laundry basket. One day she caught him with his head in Bellamy's work boots, licking the inner soles and rolling all over the outside.

She couldn't help but record him on her phone and send it to their beloved.

"I know he smells good Bear, but seriously, not _that_ good!" She crinkled up her nose and giggled.

It was late in the afternoon during her second trimester that she had an epiphany regarding her contention for Bellamy's hot spot.

This particular day, she was cold and sore and too tired to pad down to the bedroom to get another layer of clothes to keep her warm, so she pulled on the thick, knitted sweater Bellamy had peeled off before going out in the garden. She lay on the couch on her back with Bellamy's sweater covering her to the tops of her knees.

Soon she he drifted off but woke not long after to a strange sensation. Lifting herself slowly on her elbows, because it was impossible to be flat on her back and see beyond her belly, she saw Bear's fuzzy black head and realised he was rocking back and forth on her thighs, pawing Bellamy's sweater beneath him.

She almost, _almost_ , teared up.

Stupid pregnancy hormones.

"Bell," she whispered harshly, not wanting to startle the cat. " _Bell_."

She remembered he was outside and tried to grab her phone to take photographic evidence of her success. It was out of reach.

Little Bear was completely oblivious to all the fuss and continued to purr and paw, purr and paw. It was oddly calming. She wanted desperately to pet him, but besides the fact that she couldn't get past the gigantic bump between them, she remembered what Bellamy always said.

"Don't touch him too much, he gets over sensitive."

So she left him, laid back down and dozed off again, hoping Bellamy would find them like that when he came inside.

After that day, Clarke always came to the couch armed with something _particularly_ stinking of Bellamy and laid it on her lap. It was simple really, and she didn't know why she hadn't thought of it long ago. To her delight, it got the desired reaction, from Bear.

Not from Bellamy though. He continued to irk her.

"Do you have my dirty laundry between your legs Clarke?" he snorted. "What is this? Some kind of new kink I don't know about?"

She was the one to snort, however, when after three nights in a row of Bear choosing Clarke's lap over his, Bellamy took decisive action and straddled _her_ instead! Which was a pretty mean feat - given how big she was by then.

Thankfully he didn't toy with her nipples or eat her earlobes though.

Her stupid pregnancy hormones couldn't handle that.

* * *

A few days before her due date, they were getting ready for some couch time.

"How do you think Bear will go when the kidlet comes home?" Clarke asked, curious.

Bellamy smirked.

"Well unless our newborn is more competitive than you…" she threw a cushion at him. "Which is pretty much impossible…" another cushion flew across the room. "I think Bear and the baby will be fine," he chuckled and closed in on her for a cat-less cuddle.


End file.
